Bill and Charlie: Brothers Forever
by Mary Gooby
Summary: Bill and Charlie are brothers and best friends. Starts when Bill is three and Charlie comes home for the first time, ends I don't know when. Finally finally updated with Bring Your Kids to Work day Part 1! Please review!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: I'm a Big Brother**

**Ok, this is about when Charlie comes home and Bill's reaction. Please be nice if you don't like it. Sorry that it's short, next one will be longer, at least hopefully. Enjoy!!**

Uncle Gideon and Uncle Fabian walked through the door into the Burrow.

"Hi Bill," said Gideon, ruffling Bill's hair. Bill bounced in delight.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"Well, you're going to have a brother!"

Bills excited smile turned into a scowl.

"Why?" he pouted.

"You see," said Fabian, "when a mommy and a daddy want to have a baby, they—Ow!! Gideon, that hurt!"

"Fabian, you shouldn't be polluting young Bill's innocent little mind……"

"Right! Sorry Bill, we didn't say anything."

Bill raised his eyebrows at his uncles who were grinning sheepishly.

Molly and Arthur walked through the back door 2 hours later. Arthur went into the sitting room and collapsed into a chair, but Molly stood, smiling tiredly. Gideon and Fabian beamed at their sister and went to go and make her some tea.

"Bill?" said Molly quietly. Bill turned around.

"Bill, do you want to meet your brother, Charlie?"

Bill fixed his face with a nasty scowl and trudged over to his mother, peering into the bundle that was in her arms.

He glared at the baby that was in the bundle. This 'Charlie', this little boy with already a head full of thick red hair was going to take his place as a loved son. This 'Charlie' was going to steal all the attention and love and care his parents had ever given him. He, Bill, would be left down in the dust, forgotten, as his parents and this disgusting baby lived happily ever after. Unable to form the right words, he just said: "His nose is too big."

"Well," Molly began, "besides his nose, do you like him?"

"NO!" he screamed, "I wish you never had him!" He stumbled up the stairs to his room on his pudgy legs.

Gideon and Fabian walked into the kitchen with a tea tray.

"What was that all about?" Gideon asked.

But Molly just shook her head, her eyes full of tears, watching the staircase which her eldest son had just gone up, filled with anger.

It was the dead of the night. Bill poked his head out of his bedroom door. The hallway was deserted.

"Good," he muttered, "I'm gonna give that Charlie what he deserves."

He tiptoed down the stairs into the kitchen, grabbing an egg from the refrigerator. He crept up the stairs into his parents' room. Right next to their nightstand was a cradle, which Bill knew contained Charlie. He walked over to it and looked inside. Charlie was lying there, his eyes wide open with curiosity. Bill jumped back in surprise. After a few deep breaths, he looked back in. Charlie was smiling now, looking at Bill with wonder and—admiration.

Bill dropped the egg on the ground. He didn't feel like slathering Charlie with egg yolk anymore. The look in the baby's eyes made him feel important, looked up to, and—loved. It made him feel like a big brother.

Charlie grinned even more and grabbed Bill's thumb.

"I'm a big brother," Bill told himself. He liked the sound of those words.

Charlie smiled and gurgled.

"Who knows," Bill told him, "you could even turn out to be pretty cool."

**Well? Is it hideous? Do you like it? Yes, I know Bill is only two or three, (in my mind he's three) and that his feelings and his vocabulary seem a bit grown up, but he's a very mature little boy, at least in the dead of the night, looking into his brother's cradle. Please review!!!**


	2. Daddy! It's Kennilworthy Whisp!

**Chapter 2**

**Takes place about two or three years after Chapter 1, and it's a very important day:**

**Quidditch Through the Ages is coming out!!!**

**Disclaimer: Oh, if I owned Harry Potter, Teddy would have parents! Wow! Imagine that! **

Bill was 5 years old, speeding along Diagon Alley. "Hurry up, slowpoke!" he shouted over his shoulder to Charlie.

"I'm coming!" yelled Charlie. Then he tripped over a cobblestone.

"Bill!" called Arthur, who was with the two boys, "slow down for Charlie!"

Bill trudged back, scowling. "Daddy, we're gonna miss Mr. Whisp's speech!"

"Relax, Bill," said Arthur, looking at his watch, "we might miss it, but it isn't the end of the world."

"Yes, it is!" Bill protested, as they continued at a slower pace.

"Kennilworthy Whisp's book will be there after his speech."

"But it's gonna be sold out!"

"No it isn't. Look, we're here." They arrived at Flourish and Blotts.

The bookstore was full of activity. People were pushing and shoving to get to the cash register, but even more people were trying to get to a man on a raised platform.

"Daddy!" squealed Bill, "it's Kennilworthy Whisp!!"

And so it was. Seventeen year old Kennilworthy Whisp, barely out of Hogwarts, and yet famous, was the man standing on the platform, displaying a collectible vintage broom, which Arthur recognized as the Silver Arrow. Next to him there was a sign that read:

**Kennilworthy Whisp**

**Author of the brand new:**

**Quidditch Through the Ages**

**Book signings at two o'clock**

Arthur checked his watch. It read 1:47. "All right boys," he said, "we missed the speech, but we should be able to get the book signed."

They jostled to the line and waited for twenty minutes to get to the front. Then they started towards Kennilworthy Whisp. Bill and Charlie ogled over the book, but Arthur frowned at his deflated wallet, counting the coins in it. It contained two sickles and one knut. He sighed. Bill and Charlie probably wouldn't be getting any new books soon. When they reached Kennilworthy Whisp, Arthur hurriedly put a smile on.

Bill was jumping up and down with excitement as he handed Kennilworthy Whisp the book, and, just to be like him, Charlie jumped up and down too.

"Hello," said Mr. Whisp.

Bill's eyes grew to be as big as saucers: he was hearing Kennilworthy Whisp speak.

"You like Quidditch?" inquired Mr. Whisp.

Bill nodded, but he was mostly just amazed by the author, who was only 17 years old and had already managed to publish a book which was sure to be a bestseller. Charlie's eyes, however, lit up at the question.

"Do I?" he said with incredulity, "I wanna play for England when I grow up!"

Mr. Whisp chuckled. "You do that, kid. You do that." He handed back the signed book. Arthur thanked him and they walked out of Flourish and Blotts. Immediately Bill began talking nonstop.

"Did you see him? Did you see him? He's only—only—"

"12 years older that you," Arthur filled in.

"12 years older than me! He's famous! He's amazing! Did you see his broom? Wow! I wonder how old it is! Was it a racing broom? Do you think—"

He was interrupted by Charlie. "He told me to play for England," he said dreamily, "he believes I can."

"Charlie, you git," said Bill exasperatedly, "He didn't mean it."

All of Charlie's happiness evaporated. He began to sulk.

"Bill, don't be mean to your brother," Arthur scolded.

Bill frowned. Charlie was so innocent, he didn't even know what sarcasm was.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

They got home and Charlie bounded over to Molly who was sipping tea in the sitting room, looking tired.

"Mummy! Mummy! We got the book!!"

"Well, that's lovely dearie, why don't we read a chapter at bedtime."

Charlie frowned. "But I wanna read it now!"

"We're reading it at bedtime," confirmed Arthur, "now go and do your chores. Bill, you too."

Charlie glared at Bill and narrowed his little eyes. From this Bill gathered that he was still angry.

They went upstairs to their room and immediately Charlie turned to Bill. "Did Kennilworthy Whisp mean what he said?"

Bill looked at his accusing brother. "About Quidditch? No, I don't think he did. But I think you could."

Charlie's eyes lit up. Surely Bill's opinion was much more accurate and important than Kennilworthy Whisp's. "You think so?" he whispered.

"Come on, Charlie," Bill said, "you've been on a broom for, like, 8 months. Remember when Dad gave you my old toy broom and you ran straight into the Christmas tree? Then you chased my puffskein all around the house and managed not to get a concussion?"

Charlie grinned. "We gotta do our chores."

So they cleaned their room, de-gnomed the garden, set the table for dinner, ate dinner, and then sat around and played with their eyebrows, and all that time their minds were on the book.

After what seemed like an epoch, Arthur poked his head into their bedroom and said: "Time for bed."

Bill and Charlie had never gotten ready for bed so fast. They sprinted out of the room, nearly knocking their dad over. When they were brushing their teeth, Charlie almost swallowed some toothpaste in his rush, then spit it out all over Bill. Bill fell over while getting into his pajamas, and landed right on top of Charlie.

In about thirty seconds, Charlie and Bill were both sitting on their beds screaming: "Read the book! Read the book!"

Arthur looked at his watch, which said it was 7:30. He was impressed that the boys had made it this long without exploding, so he decided to read the whole thing.

So he started. "Early Broomsticks" he said.

Charlie squealed with excitement.

Arthur pressed farther into the book. When he got to the part about the Seeker who petitioned for a slower Snitch because "this is just too easy", Charlie leaned over to Bill and asked, "Do you think I'll ever be that good?"

Bill shrugged and said, "If you want to be."

Arthur grinned. He wished his brothers had been as good at being brothers as Bill. But no, all they did was give him noogies every time he came within 10 feet of them and tease the pants off of him when he started dating Molly…….

"Uh, Dad?" Bill's voice penetrated the silence.

Arthur noticed that he had stopped reading and was clenching the book rather tightly. He cleared his throat, grinned sheepishly at the boys, then continued the book. But his mind wasn't on the book. No, he was thinking back reminiscently to all those noogies from his brothers. His head hurt at the very thought of them………

**Did you like it?? Was it awful?? Did you feel like screaming from its awfulness?? Was the ending stupid? Sorry it's taken this long to update, my stories are on, like, three different computers, and I only have access to this one a couple of times a month. Now, why don't you press that blessed little review button and tell me the answers to all those questions I asked at the beginning of this paragraph. Is it even a paragraph, or just a big chunk of writing? Can you answer that question as well? **


	3. Really Long Title

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Or the stuff in italics. That's Cole Porter's. I wish I could be J.K. though. Aside from being old. (Sorry J.K., but you're in your, well, forties!)**

**This is a short chapter. Disappointed? Oh well, the next chapter is going to be longer and will be up (hopefully) this weekend. I've also got a book report on my hands, but it's really easy, the main part of it is summarizing the book, and, seeing as my book is ****Chamber of Secrets****, I could do that summary in my sleep. Oh, and in this, 3-year-old Charlie is speaking in complete sentences. Let's just say that he's like my brother ok? I'm not going into details there. And just to get you annoyed from the suspense,**

**Bla bla**

**Bla bla bla**

**Yadda Yadda Yadda**

**Random stuff**

**I like Italian food**

_**Good authors, too, who once knew better words, now only use four letter words, writing prose…anything goes!**_

_**Lahdle lahdle lahdle chug chug chug**_

_**You're the top… you're the coliseum…You're the top… you're the Louvre Museum… You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss… You're a Bendel Bonnet… A Shakespeare sonnet… You're Mickey Mouse!!!**_

**And now.**

**The big one…**

**The one we've **_**all**_** been waiting for…**

**Chapter Three**

**A Pink Blotchy Bundle with Horn-Rimmed Glasses**

Bill moodily picked at the salmon-colored couch. He had always hated this house. Always. He hated the house almost as much as its single inhabitant, Great-Auntie Muriel. He looked around at the fancy sitting room he was sitting in (what else would he be doing?). The same old pink furniture, the Victorian coffee table, the Persian rug, the lace curtains, and the grandfather clock. And of course, the terrible flowered, baby pink wallpaper with white trim. He hated this place so much, that if his parents would ever, ever want to punish him, something worse than grounding, or (shudder) having his reading privileges revoked, they could just send him for a weekend at Auntie Muriel's house.

Worse than the house, though, was Great-Auntie Muriel. Every time he walked in those pink-tinged French doors, she would swoop down on him and pinch his cheek. Then she would say, _"Oh, darling William, you look just as adorable as ever!"_ And if that weren't enough, she would give him clothes as presents. Not just any clothes, though. Hideous wooly jumpers with knitted pictures of farm animals on the front. Baby blue hats with duckies along the brim. Pants the color of bogeys with mustard colored polka dots. At all the visits to Great-Auntie Muriel's, after dinner he would be expected to do origami. He could never make any sense of it, either. Every visit was the same. He now considered walking up to the front door like walking up to the gallows. Ringing the doorbell was like knocking on the door of the police when you're public enemy number one. And Great-Auntie Muriel was the jailer, the executioner, the dreaded Great-Aunt from…down there.

"Bill!" Charlie's voice coming from the kitchen snapped Bill out of his reverie. "Come on in, the tea's finished!"

Bill got up and walked slowly into the kitchen. Charlie was sitting on the counter, looking at the whistling kettle.

"Well?" Bill said impatiently. "Why don't you take it off the stove?"

Charlie stared at him momentarily, then looked back at the stove, looking absolutely terrified. "The stove is scary!"

"It's just a stove, for heavens sake!" Bill rolled his eyes and retrieved the kettle. He put it next to the teacups (magenta with lavender flowers). "Now why don't you pour it?"

Charlie stared at the kettle apprehensively.

"For goodness' sake, Charlie, it's not going to bite!"

"It isn't?"

"No, you idiot, kettles only bite where Dad works. C'mon, I'll pour it." They carried the tea tray out into the sitting room and put it on the yucky mahogany Victorian coffee table.

Then Charlie asked, "Bill, why aren't we at Uncle Gideon and Uncle Fabian's flat?"

Bill sighed and slowly set down his yucky magenta teacup on the yucky mahogany Victorian coffee table. "Uncle Gid and Uncle Fab have to do some important secret stuff for Dumbledore."

"Dubdore?"

"Dumbledore, you prat, the headmaster."

"Oh."

"And now we're stuck here in poopy Great-Auntie Muriel's house."

"I don't like her."

"Charlie, if you don't like her, you obviously haven't really met her."

Then Great-Auntie Muriel appeared in the door. "Oh, darling William!" she cried. (Bill rolled his eyes and prepared his cheek). "You look just as adorable as ever!" She pinched his cheek. "I'm so sorry I couldn't see you in, I had to finish my face mask!" (Bill raised his eyebrows at a smudge of greenish goop along her jaw). "I have got the best presents for you two! I'll go and get them."

"Presents?" Charlie said excitedly right after she left. "We get presents?!"

"More like parcels from…down there."

"Down there?"

"You know…where bad people go when they die."

"Oh, hell?"

"You're only three years old! Where did you pick that up?"

"I listened to Mummy and Daddy talking about Dubdore."

"Dumbledore. And you shouldn't eavesdrop."

"Eavesdrop?"

"Listen when you're not su—"

Auntie Muriel trotted into the room carrying two lumpy packages. Bill gulped. It looked like jumpers. Again.

Muriel handed the parcels to Bill and Charlie. Charlie started ripping his open excitedly. His face fell when he saw what was inside. "Look, Bill," he said quietly. Bill grimaced as Charlie held up his jumper. It was rust colored with a large picture of a chicken surrounded by her chicks. "Let's see yours."

Bill reluctantly turned to his parcel, so innocently sitting on his lap, tied with twine. He slowly untied the twine and carefully unfolded the paper… "I got the same as you, Charlie," he said flatly. "Just bigger."

"I thought you two would look just _precious_ wearing them together!" Muriel said in sugary, babying tones. "Let's see them on you."

Bill glanced at Charlie, who was now regarding his jumper as if it was going to sprout manic eyes and fangs and devour him alive. They both put on the jumpers. Bill looked down at his. A chicken. This was worse than the one with the pig on it.

"Oh!" Muriel exclaimed, her eyes dewy. "You two look like baby angels! I'll go and get my camera! Oh, and why don't I get some origami paper! I do know how much you love that!" She bustled out of the room.

"Does she?" Charlie asked, looking sick at the prospect of folding paper.

"No," Bill said, eyeing the doorway, hoping _she_ wouldn't come through it. "If she did, she wouldn't make us do it, would she?"

"Why don't we tell her?"

"Mum and Dad would kill us, you idiot."

"They would?"

"Well, whatever they'd do to us, it would be worse than death."

"They w—" Muriel hurried into the room with her camera and a book. She set the book down on the table along with lots of colored paper. Bill leaned forward to read the title: Advanced Origami Patterns for the Paper Folding Master. This was going to be a nightmare.

"Alright, why don't you darling angels scoot closer to each-other." They did what she said, grudgingly. "Now smile!" The camera flashed and both of the boys relaxed. "Okay, I'm going to go to the bathroom, and when I get back I expect to see a nice origami swan on the coffee table!" She dashed out of the room.

Charlie slowly turned to face Bill. "You know how to do origami?"

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Will the istucshuns make sense?"

"Instructions, and I doubt it." He turned to the page that said _"Origami Swan"_.

"1.)" he read aloud, "take a piece of square paper and fold one of the edges so that it is perpendicular to the corner to the left of the next corner? This makes no sense! What does—" He glanced at the page again "perpendicular mean?"

"Let's just fold it like this." Charlie crumpled it into a ball. "There. It's a swan that went through a garbage shredder."

"Charlie, Great-Auntie Muriel's going to be really angry if we don't make a perfect—"

The doorbell rang throughout the house.

"Mummy and Daddy are here! Mummy had the baby!"

"Well, let's open the door!" Bill sprang up and bounced to the door and opened it: He wanted to see the baby too.

Molly and Arthur Weasley were standing on the doorstep. Molly had a white bundle in her arms.

"Yay! The baby!" Bill and Charlie cried. Bill stood on tiptoe and looked into the bundle. Then he looked up at Molly. "Where's the baby?"

"Billy!" Molly exclaimed. "He's right in my arms, in the blankets!"

Bill looked down at the bundle again. "That's not a baby! That's a pink blotchy thing with horn rimmed glasses!"

"Billy! That is your brother, Percy Ignatius Weasley, and he is perfect!"

"Perfect Percy," Charlie muttered under his breath. Molly stared at him.

"Well!" said Arthur, breaking the tension. "Let's be on our way, your mother's exhausted, she needs to get home."

"We don't have to say goodbye?" Charlie asked hopefully.

"Muriel will understand. Come on. Nice jumpers, by the way." Arthur grinned a little. "Speaking of Muriel," he said as they walked up the drive, "how was your afternoon?"

Bill looked at Charlie. Charlie looked at Bill. They both raised an eyebrow. Then they turned to their parents and said in unison, "Yucky."

**Ok, maybe not so short. I got a little carried away with Great-Auntie Muriel's. Did you like it? You'd better answer that in your review. Anonymous reviews are enabled, and I hope that eventually I'll get at least seven reviews or so, because I got a lot of emails saying people added me to their story alert lists. I don't expect you to check your email every day or anything, but you should check it every week or two. And even though I don't read every single email, I always scan the list for "New Chapter" mail. So, REVIEW PLEASE WITH A YUMMY CHERRY ON TOP!!!! Or a blueberry. Or just lots of chocolate chips. Or even better, gummy bears.**

**One last thing: If anyone can guess what those bold words in italics were from, way up at the beginning where I was trying to build the suspense, you get to meet your favorite Harry Potter actor/actress. Just send your request in the review and I'll list your names (account names, I don't actually know you) and the person you meet in the next chapter! Toodle-oo, and review!**

**Hint: The quotes are from a famous play.**


	4. The Dreaded Book

**It's taken a while. Apologies. Anyway, so far, nobody's guessed what the quotes are from so I'll tell you now: They're from Anything Goes!, one of the best shows in the world. Of course, I'm a bit biased. And now, without further ado…**

**Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. If I was, I would have put more of Bill and Charlie in the HP books. **

**Chapter Four**

**The Dreaded Book**

Bill was reading. It was a rainy Saturday morning, so he was reading. It was a very good book, too. It was about goblins. The main—

"Bill, Bill, Bill, Bill, Bill!" Charlie had come back from breakfast clutching his toy broom. "D'you want to play Quidditch?"

Bill stared at him over his book. "No, I don't. Anyway, it's raining out."

"But Bill!" Charlie pleaded. "If we don't play Quidditch, we'll have to play with Percy. He's only a baby."

Bill considered playing Quidditch. He was terrible at it, but then again, Percy, being one and a half, would want to play Hogwarts. "Ok, fine, you win." He grabbed his brand new (ok, it was Dad's) Cleansweep 2 and tromped downstairs after Charlie, who was taking the steps two at a time.

They stopped at the entrance to the kitchen. "Mum's in there, and she's tired." Charlie whispered. "We'll have to be secret-like. Mum really wants Percy off her hands."

They tiptoed into the kitchen and Charlie had his hand on the doorknob, when…

"Boys, there you are!" Molly had let her attention stray from a squealing Percy, and had inconveniently turned toward the back door.

"Hi, Mum." Charlie said slowly, knowing he was in dangerous waters. "We were just going to play a bit of Quidditch."

"Oh, no you're not!" Molly brandished a kiddie cup at him. "You two are going to play with Percy for a couple of hours."

Bill and Charlie broke into numerous protests, so the kitchen rang with sound.

"ENOUGH!!!" Molly finally cried. "And Charlie, I know you can't make cookies." (Charlie looked sheepish. One of his protests had been _I'll bake you cookies if you let us play Quidditch!_) "Now, you take Percy into the sitting room, and he'd better be amused for at least two and a half hours, or you'll have me to answer to!" She left the room.

Charlie turned to Bill in horror. "_Two and a half hours?_ She must be mad! Our record's forty-five minutes!"

Bill grimaced. These two and a half hours were going to be long.

Percy adored the game "Hogwarts". First you read him books. Then you had to pretend to work while Percy clapped his hands and squealed "Wurk! Wurk!" After that, you had to read him more books.

They trudged into the sitting room and plopped Percy down on the floor. Kneeling next to Percy, Charlie carefully asked "So, Percy, what game do you want to play?"

Bill knew the answer before Percy screamed: "Woghorts! Woghorts!"

"Right." Charlie said, leaning back against the worn brown couch, knowing that Percy was decided and nothing could sway his opinion, "what do you want to do first?"

"Wead!"

"What?"

"Pweeficts!"

Charlie's eyes swiveled around to face Bill. Bill knew that book. The nightmare book. 126 pages of pure torture. 126 pages of describing "pweeficts" and what powers they had, and what "pweeficts" had become famous.

"Let's just run upstairs real quick," Charlie whispered in Bill's ear, "Perce can take care of himself for two hours, right?"

"No. He'd start screaming."

"He would?" Charlie looked surprised.

Bill stared flatly at Charlie. "One hour, no. But this kid," (he glanced at Percy, who was looking at them expectantly), "even though it might not seem like it, he's human. He'll get bored."

Charlie looked at Percy, who was now gazing raptly at a fly fluttering near Auntie Muriel's old antique lamp, as if nothing else deserved his attention. "I'm not so sure…" he said, but got up and grabbed the prefect book from the bookshelf anyway. "You read," he said simply, thrusting the book into Bill's hands and plugging his ears.

Bill looked at the deadly, familiar title.

Prefects:

The Powers

The Rewards

The Lives

He took a deep breath and prepared for the plunge.

He had been reading for forty-five minutes (in which Charlie had attempted to sneak off 23 times) when Arthur came in the front door.

"Hi boys!" he said as he strode into the sitting room and sat down on the couch.

"Hi!!!" Charlie and Bill said excitedly back.

"Most exciting day, most exciting day indeed. Old Harold Quirps brought in a burping toaster. Absolutely mystified those poor Muggles who bought it. Every time they try and make some toast, the toaster immediately belches out completely untoasted and rather smelly bread! A most interesting artifact, I'll have you know, big slots that you stick bread in, and then you pull down a lever and the toaster gets all hot, and the bread inside the toaster somehow gets all toasted! Wonderful, Muggles, working all these things out. I should like to figure out how that works, sometime, when, errm, I might get the time to…" he surreptitiously patted a rectangular lump in his robes. Noticing Bill's eyes following his hand, he spotted danger and quickly changed the subject. "Ah, what is it you three are reading?" he peered through his glasses at the title. "Oh, yes, the prefect book." He looked at their blank faces. "Well, I'm going to go say hello to your mother…" He walked quickly out of the room, obviously eager to put as much distance between him and the dreaded book.

Bill and Charlie looked at each other. "Do you think now Dad's home, Mum will let us play Quidditch?" Charlie asked hopefully.

"I wouldn't risk it." Bill said flatly. He picked up the book and started reading again.

**Alright, not as good as I wanted it to be. This was going to be the introduction of the next chapter, but when this added up to three pages, and it was supposed to be one, I thought it would be way too long. So, that's it. **

**Next Chapter:**

"**Bring Your Kids to Work Day"!!**

**So, on that note, **

**REVIEW!!!!!**


	5. Bring Your Kids to Wrk Day Part 1

I'm updating, and you'd better be happy

**I'm updating, and you'd better be happy! I started this in my notebook, and then lost my notebook, which broke my heart. So now I'm doing it over again! It was going to be one chapter, but I really want to post now!**

**Bring Your Kids to Work Day Part 1**

Arthur was late. He ran across the Atrium, swearing under his breath. A meeting with the head of the Magical Law Enforcement, no less. If he messed up, he could lose his job, and then…he didn't want to think about it.

"Morning Tom," he said as he rushed past the inspection desk.

"Hey, Arthur! Come back here a moment!"

He pivoted and came back to the desk. "What is it? I'm kind of late."

"Arthur," Tom said with a smile, "have you read the weekly bulletin?"

"No," he said, wondering why Tom decided to risk his friend's job just to tell gossip.

"Well, Monday's bring your kids to work day."

"Really? Oh this is going to be fun."

"Why the sarcasm?"

"Nothing, I just hope my middle son doesn't find the Department of Magical Games and Sports. His head might explode."

"Right, Arthur."

* * *

It was 7 in the evening, and Molly was grumpy, tired, pregnant, _and_ she had a headache. She was on the verge of storming over to Arthur and screaming "THEY"RE YOUR SONS!" even though he had just had a really stressful meeting.

She was this insanely fed up because of the racket her husband's sons were making.

"WE'RE GOING TO WORK! WE'RE GOING TO WORK! WE'RE GOING TO WORK!!" Bill and Charlie screamed the 32nd verse of their new hit song, if you could call it a song. Percy was also screaming "Wurk! Wurk! Wurk!", though it was only because he liked the noise.

Meanwhile, Molly was in the sitting room, trying to knit, but failing. Finally after the 48th verse she screamed "SHUT UP!!"

Thank God they shut up.

* * *

Charlie sat and listened to his brother's snores. It was 10 o'clock at night. They would have to get up at 6 tomorrow. But he wasn't tired. He was scared.

"Bill?"

Snores.

"Bill?!"

Snores.

"Bill!" He started poking his brother.

"Hrmphdshgflmp"

"Bill, come on, wake up!"

"Mm 'wake"

"No, you're not!"

"Wanna sleep"

"Bill, I want to ask you something!"

"Ask."

"Will tomorrow be fun?"

Bill turned over and forced his eyes open.

"Duh, Charlie, of course it will."

"Daddy came home all grumpy."

"Well, it's different for Dad."

"Why?"

"Because he has to work."

"Oh."

"Yeah, that's why it's called work."

"But…"

"What?"

"Isn't work supposed to be fun?"

"You've been hanging around with Perce too much, Char. Go to sleep."

He promptly disappeared under the covers.

Charlie frowned and went to sleep.

* * *

"I DON' WANNA! I DON' WANNA! I DON' WANNA!"

"For heaven's sakes, Charlie, calm down!"

"I don' wanna wear a tie!"

"You're going to have to!"

"NO!"

Bill sat listening to the argument. Charlie was off on a wild goose chase. His mother was famous for her persistence.

"NO! NO! YOU'RE CHOKING ME! NO TIE!"

"Fine, then you won't go to work!"

"NO! NO I WANNA GO TO WORK!"

"Then put the tie on!"

Later on in the day, the Lovegoods Flooed Molly and told her that they could hear Charlie's moans of protest about the tie from their house.

Charlie trooped into the kitchen, where Bill was. He had a disgruntled look of disgust on his face. He tugged at his blue polka dot tie and said "Why does it have to be polka dot?"

Bill's mouth was full of cereal, but he managed to get out: "I dunno, ask Mum."

"It's so ugly!"

"Mnfs wrfbs"

"Huh?"

Bill swallowed and said, "Mine's worse."

"Lemme see it."

Bill stood up, and Charlie immediately cracked up. He scowled and looked down. Orange stripes were a lot worse. He might as well wear his chicken sweater from Auntie Muriel. And he wanted to appear mature and grown up. Poop.

* * *

Arthur, Bill, and Charlie descended the steps to the subway station. Charlie was jumping down the steps two at a time, while Bill briskly walked down the steps with his hands clasped behind his back, trying to maintain dignity, despite his tie.

"Dad, why are we taking the tube?" he asked as they left the ticket machine.

"It's an excellent insight on Muggle culture, Bill!" Arthur answered excitedly. "Most Muggles take the tube _every day_! An underground train!" They sat down on dirty plastic seats next to the boarding area. "And," he dropped his voice down to a whisper, "I'm using this as an opportunity to study Muggles. They're really quite fascinating, how they get along without magic!" He looked excitedly down the row of seats where a plain-looking middle-aged woman sat reading the Times. She eyed him suspiciously over her paper and scooted away a couple more seats. Bill looked up at his dad, but he hadn't seemed to notice.

"Ah, look at that, our train's arrived!" Arthur said as he stood up, wiping his glasses.

An ancient and heavily graffitied tube pulled in and immediately opened its doors. They climbed in and were soon squished between a white-collar businessman and an old lady in a shabby overcoat who was looking over a paper that had lines for a job interview.

The tube pulled smoothly out of the station, and Arthur continually glanced up at the station map up high on the wall. After about 20 minutes, he said "Right, only 4 more stops to go, boys!"

Four stops and 3 blocks later, Arthur, Bill, and Charlie stood on the busy sidewalk of Charing Cross Road.

"Right boys, off to the Leaky Cauldron!"

"Why the Leaky Cauldron, Daddy?" inquired Charlie as the set off briskly down the road.

"Well, I don't particularly want to use the visitor's entrance, so we're just going to Floo from the pub."

"Why don't you want to use the visitor's entrance?"

"I've always been a little uneasy around fellytone boxes ever since I got a raid on one, and had to go fix it. The fellytone swung around and hit me in the face! I had a bruise for weeks! Ah, the Leaky Cauldron!" They stepped inside the shabby pub and headed straight for the fireplace.

"Alright boys, in you get," he said as Bill and Charlie scrambled into the enlarged fireplace. With a nod at the hunchbacked bartender, Arthur took a handful of Floo Powder and threw it into the grate, shouting "The Ministry of Magic!"


End file.
